


Backseat Serenade

by Inquisitor023



Category: Monster Prom (Visual Novel)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-19
Updated: 2020-08-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:47:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,313
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25989979
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inquisitor023/pseuds/Inquisitor023
Summary: When it comes to date nights, Killian always aims to please - with no expense spared. And when it's the lovely Vicky who is joining him, well... can you blame him? Join them for a romantic dinner of fancy food, too much alcohol and a desperately desired hotel room.
Relationships: Blue | Vicky/Killian Dúbh, Blue | Vicky/OC
Kudos: 2





	Backseat Serenade

**Author's Note:**

> Killian Dúbh is my OC - a Fae who runs a Crime Syndicate called The Court. If you'd like to learn more about him, I encourage you to try his Mod (previously the #1 Mod for Monster Prom) - or you can come speak to me in the OCs channel of the Monster Prom Discord. 
> 
> I hope you'll indulge my selfishness with these fics featuring Killian, but I'm proud of them and thought others might enjoy.

Killian Dúbh liked to think he was not easy to surprise. After all, he was a relatively major Crime Lord in society - one specializing in information and supporting other syndicates, no less. Being easy to surprise, to catch off-guard, was something he had to abandon long ago - and never mind his nature leading to him meticulously preparing for every detail and eventuality he could. 

No, Killian was not easy to surprise… and yet the effortless (albeit dorky) grace of Vicky Schmidt did so with contemptible ease. He would always have called her beautiful, even in her sweater and jeans as she often wore to school, but seeing her step out of her apartment - resplendent in a long blue gown, so dark that it was almost black, with a scattering of sequins so small and so bright, that it looked as though she was a Goddess, who had draped the very night sky around her perfect form. She smiled at Killian, the faintest hint of a blush in her cheeks, as he stared at her, dumbfounded.

“Everything okay?” she asked, as she approached him and the waiting car.

“You look absolutely beautiful,” he replied - and the blush came full force.

“Well, you dress up well yourself,” she retorted, a hand reaching up to adjust the lapel of his emerald green blazer gently. “I couldn’t let you have all the fun.” They both laughed at that, smiling warmly at one another. 

“I suppose not,” he conceded, before opening the back door of the idling car, “After you.” As Vicky took the hand he offered, and lowered herself into the seat, Killian took a brief moment to reflect on his luck - on the series of events that led him to this moment. If you had told Finnian Driscol - terrified and alone - that this would have been his… he’d never have believed you.

Some things work out well, he reasoned, having made his way to the other side of the car - and sat down beside Vicky. “On to the restaurant, if you would be so kind,” Killian directed his driver - and they were off, rolling towards the location of this evening’s date.

It was a small, quiet little restaurant - though exceptionally popular, and with good reason, as it was one of the fanciest eateries in Monsteropolis. The story went that, to get a reservation, you need to call before you were born - and even that was no guarantee. The food, supposedly, was hand-crafted by a crack team of food engineering undergrads, overseen by a sixty-nine-star chef, and cooked in Dragonfire - which was utterly absurd, as dragons aren’t real. 

“How did you manage to get a reservation, by the way?” Vicky asked, before a teasing grin formed on her lips and her hands formed a pair of pistols. “A fierce gun battle with your rivals and, in the end, you stole their reservation? Or did you intimidate the manager - making an offer they couldn’t refuse?” As the question left her lips, her grin turned sly - and her eyes hooded, leaning closer towards him. “Or maybe you seduced someone, hm?”

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Killian replied, raising an eyebrow at Vicky - who laughed in response at his retort, before pressing up closer to him, linking his arm with her own. To her, it was a somewhat witty retort, a continuation of their game.

To him, it was just purely evasive - as he didn’t want to reveal the truth that he called up and got lucky.

It wasn’t a particularly long drive, and the pair spent the duration of it in a comfortable and intimate near-silence. They spoke of the little things - the breadsticks of conversation, that you could tear apart and enjoy without impeding the upcoming main course - and simply enjoyed each other’s presence. It was, to Killian, the most reassuring sensation - to know there was something else there to battle the loneliness - not for gain, but simply out of affection. He’d missed that sensation. 

“Here we are, sir.” The voice of Killian’s driver drew Killian and Vicky both from their mutual daydream. Thanking his driver, Killian pulled himself from the car and moved to Vicky’s side, offering a hand as she joined him. Once out of the car, and at her full height, she linked his arm. Before heading inside, however, Killian passed a $100 bill to his driver as thanks and told him to simply park up and call a cab to head home, as he didn’t want to leave him waiting in the car park all night. They could get the car in the morning, after all.

And with that, Vicky and Killian crossed the threshold into the restaurant which… was surprisingly empty, all things said and done. A handful of tables and booths were scattered around the room, though very few were occupied. 

“I guess they act like it’s busier than it is,” Killian reasoned, uncertainty in his voice, as a waiter led them to their table. Both Killian and Vicky marvelled at the interior as they were led - the soft ambience of candlelight, the soothing melody coming from the live performer, the none-too-subtle warmth of the wood-burning fire, the aroma coming from the kitchen that promised expertise handling fresh ingredients. Vicky was enthralled and excited to try this new experience - while Killian, although equally excited, was taking notes in his mind of what he could commandeer and implement for the Court.

“And can I interest the couple in drinks?” the waiter asked, as they both sat down and menus were placed in front of them. 

“Could I ask for a Writer’s Tears Old Fashioned - but with a dash of honey as opposed to sugar?” Killian asked, as Vicky quickly reviewed the list of wines. 

“Of course - and, if I may make a recommendation with regards to the wine, I would suggest the   
aceto troppo caro - it’s quite a fruity experience, with notes of blackberry as well as warm spice and pepper.”

“That sounds lovely,” Vicky responded, smiling, “Could I have a glass of that, please?” 

“Bring a bottle instead,” Killian corrected, “I’ll have a glass or two of it as well, I’m sure.” The waiter nodded in confirmation and left them to review the menu and arrange their drinks. Vicky looked at Killian with some concern, reaching a hand out to rest on his.

“Killian, that’s an expensive bottle of wine - and I know you don’t drink wine. You didn’t need to buy that for me…”

Before he spoke, Killian turned his hand, so he could hold Vicky’s in his own. “I know,” he responded simply, “But there’s no price I’m not willing to pay for you to have a good night, Vicky. A bottle of wine won’t bankrupt me.” In response, Vicky’s concern turned to a touched smile - before mischief glinted in her eyes.

“You just want to get me drunk, don’t you?” she teased, to which Killian raised an eyebrow - his own mouth twisting into a coy grin.

“As if there’s anything we could do drunk I couldn’t charm you into sober, Miss Schmidt.” 

At that, Vicky descended into a fit of giggles - and Killian couldn’t help but join her in chuckling as well. Yes, it was a cheesy sentiment but they both knew it was probably true - that Killian would give anything for her happiness, and that Vicky found him incredibly charming. 

They both turned their attention to the menus then, reviewing all this place had to offer - a sheer litany of overpriced, overdesigned dishes of such fantastic quality, you wished they served you enough to actually feel like you ate a meal as opposed to a mere mouthful. Rich people food remained a strange delight to Vicky and Killian both. 

They talked between themselves about what they might order, the things that drew their eye, the items they found eccentric, whatever felt appropriate. That was, perhaps, the most comforting thing about their relationship - that conversation could flow so easily, and so naturally, that they never found themselves at a loss, instead simply electing to enjoy the comfort of each other’s silence. 

It wasn’t much longer until their waiter returned with their drinks, which he placed before them, and took their order - swiftly departing. Alone once more, they smiled at one another and took up their glasses. In Killian’s hand was a rocks glass full of liquid the colour of sunlight, which carried a bitter smokiness cut through by a sweet and fresh undercurrent. In Vicky’s hand, a wine glass half full with liquid rubies for Vicky, which promised a positively energizing blast of fruit and spice. 

“To a Fae,” Vicky stated suddenly, raising the glass up to eye level, “whose heart overflows with generosity and kindness, even if he’d never allow anyone to think it.”

“To a monster,” Killian retorted, raising his own glass to match Vicky’s, “who strives for excellence and always achieves it, being nothing short of an inspiration to all who know her.”

With the heart’s words spoken, they brought their glasses forward to let them chink off one another, before taking a drink - both relishing in the simple pleasure that comes from something fulfilling your desires. 

“So,” Vicky began, swilling her glass idly in her hand, “How did the charity dinner go yesterday? I’m sorry again I couldn’t be there.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Vicky,” Killian reassured, reaching out to rest his hand on her own, “Debate Club is important, I’m glad you were able to go. Besides, you didn’t miss much. The usual suspects, all mingling and trying to look good. That said, I’ve been told we raised quite a bit of money - though Marshall’s still tallying it up.” 

In truth, he was glad it was over. It might have been for charity - but Killian found putting on the persona of the Chairman of the Board to be draining. It felt like lying - which, for someone physically unable to lie, was not a pleasant experience - and he knew the movers and shakers who attended were doing exactly the same thing. That bothered Killian - he preferred a clean and even playing field. Then, you knew the winner had bested you fairly.

“Still, I’d like to have been there to support you - especially when you did it for me,” she admitted, the sensation of guilt clear on her face. Despite Killian’s reassurances, she did feel a little bad as, among her many extracurricular activities, she had been volunteering at an animal shelter that was in need of some support. When she mentioned it idly to Killian over dinner one night, he apparently arranged a full charity dinner to support the shelter. “I’m glad it was a success though - the money will do a lot of good.” Much like he had done earlier, she turned her hand to hold his before squeezing it gently. 

“In more exciting news,” Killian began, noticing the waiter approaching with their starters, “Tell me about the debate - wasn’t it This House Would Stop Monologuing Over Captured Heroes?” 

And thus, a rather lively debate began over starters - as Vicky recounted the key points and highlights of the debate, and the two began to discuss it between them. Killian was very much of the view that you’ve already captured the hero - putting yourself at further risk with an elaborate death machine and monologue was just asking for trouble - while Vicky took a more traditionalist and fair approach, arguing that the monologue added to the evil persona and ultimately sweetened victory. It was a lively discussion that lasted well through the starter and until the main course arrived.

Of course, it was helped by the steady application of alcohol. By the time the pair had let the debate lie, to dig into their main course, Killian had ordered several refills of his cocktail - while Vicky had finished perhaps half the bottle of wine. In other words, they were both merry, faces flushed red with more than affection and sentiment for the other, and finding joy and amusement in every little moment they spent with the other.

Their conversations continued - touching on all aspects of their life. Killian would tell of some grand deal he had made, or some scheme he had planned, while Vicky spoke of her clubs and societies, of her dreams and aspirations - each tangent earning the undivided attention of whoever listened. In no time, the main course was gone and dessert being brought to bear. Time truly flew in good company.

“Killian, let me ask you a question,” Vicky began, twirling her fork lightly between her fingers. When Killian nodded his agreement, her lips shifted into a coy and teasing smile. “What is your favourite thing about me?” Killian took a moment to look thoughtful, as he sipped at his drink.

“My favourite thing about Vicky Schmidt…” he began, tapping his lips lightly with a finger as the faintest smile curled at their corners. “Well, if I had to be honest - and it’s well documented that I do…” At that point, his tone shifted. All levity fled from him as he leaned forward in his chair, eyes locked with her own. There was no severity - but everything about his tone made it clear he spoke with the utmost sincerity. “I would say it would be her boundless enthusiasm and energy. It would be the fact that, whatever she wills herself to do will be done - come hell or high water. The simple fact of the matter is Vicky Schmidt is a woman whom I love to watch work, as she reshapes the world in her image.”

The pair fell silent for a moment, as Vicky stared at Killian - slightly dumbfounded - for a moment. A hand went up to cover her mouth as the blush once again returned, full force, across her cheeks. “Killian, I… I wasn’t expecting you to be so sincere… I was fishing for something more… playful. That’s so sweet…” 

In that moment, it was Killian’s turn to feel like a fool - his own cheeks suddenly graced with red blush. It wouldn’t be unlike him to misread a situation like that and make something of a fool of himself, but Vicky’s genuine pleasure at the compliment did seem to outweigh her amusement, or embarrassment. Still - he could recover this.

“Well… you do have a pretty fantastic ass,” he conceded. That was enough to break any tension - and the pair dissolved into a fit of giggles and chuckles. Any strangeness was banished, as though the darkness had stood before the coming dawn, and the pair were straight back into their comfortable routine. Content, Killian leaned back in his chair and raised an eyebrow. “What’s your favourite thing about me?” he inquired, raising his glass to take another sip.

If Vicky was caught unawares by Killian turning the question back on her, she certainly hid it well enough. Instead, she raised an eyebrow as she finished the last piece of her pastry. “Wouldn’t you like to know?” she teased, smiling at him. It was only then that Killian… felt something. A certain pressure, light enough but certainly firm, that pressed against his thigh. “If I was being genuine, I’d say your wit…” Vicky continued, turning her focus now to her wine glass as she delicately ran her finger along the rim, before looking back at him. “That look you get when you know how you’re going to take someone apart with only words, the way you say things…” 

As the words drifted through the air, the presence - the pressure - began to move, rising up his thigh before coming to rest, lightly, on his crotch. When it did so, he felt it began to shift - to rub - at him, and Vicky’s sly grin told him everything that was occurring under the table. “As for the playful… do I really have to pick one thing?”

Killian’s expression didn’t flinch, despite the wandering and teasing of Vicky’s foot. He continued to wear that easy, coy smile - before he downed what little remained of his drink. “Well, Miss Schmidt, if that is the case - if you were to move your foot, I’d be happy to pay the bill and we can head home for the evening?” At that, he felt the pressure shift - as Vicky readjusted herself in her seat - before she nodded, finishing her own glass of wine.

As the pair rose from the table, and they linked arms to head towards the front desk to pay, Killian was ready - he was excited - to move on to the next stage of their mutual adventure. Vicky, however, paused by the door. Killian, realising she was no longer following his footsteps, turned to face her, beginning to ask what was the matter - but he had fallen into her trap. 

Almost immediately, her arms reached up and out, to grab the Fae by the lapels and pull him down. When she did so, she pulled him into a deep kiss - one where every ounce of affection and desire could be expressed. It didn’t take long for him to return the kiss, his arms wrapping around Vicky in a tight embrace - as the world shrank down to just the two of them, to the parting of lips, tongues battling for dominance and a mutual yearning exploration. After what felt like a blissful lifetime, the kiss began to part - though Killian may have nipped at Vicky’s lower lip as she pulled away. 

She didn’t go far, however, as she instead adjusted so her lips hovered close to his ear - so close her breath sent new tingles down his spine. “I’m not wearing anything under this dress,” she whispered to him, “Do you really think I’ll make it to your house?”

Once again - Killian Dúbh liked to think he was not easy to surprise but, as it turned out, Vicky was pulling that off with an alarming frequency. He pulled away from Vicky, still holding her in his embrace, and locked eyes with hers.

“... Well, there’s a hotel just down the road.”

Thirty minutes later, in the master suite of the Rapide et Sale hotel…

It was astounding how quickly the tides could turn, and how drastically a situation could adjust. For example, thirty minutes ago Killian was a well dressed, if slightly tipsy, Fae Crime Lord paying a disquietingly pricey bill. Now, however, his vest and blazer were scattered, his shirt had been torn open and he was lying on his back atop a comfy hotel bed. 

And yet, some things didn’t change. For example, as Vicky stood at the foot of the bed, still in her beautiful dress, Killian still looked upon her with barely concealed awe - though he noted her eyes now gleamed with the hunger of a hunter who had cornered the most prime animal in the reserve. In spite of that hunger, Killian could see the same awe - the same inherent affectionate attraction - that he knew he felt. He knew that Vicky would be by his side forever, if he let her… and he knew he wanted to. 

He knew if he could bottle this moment, the raw feeling of belonging that she gave him, so that no one could take it from him… he’d pay any price.

“You really are so handsome,” Vicky complimented, beginning to climb onto the bed with her hands and knees and moving towards Killian, “And, tonight, you’re mine.”

“I would be yours any night you wanted, Vicky,” Killian murmured, as Vicky got close enough to lower her lips towards his own. As though to silence him, she pressed a gentle kiss - one that could never sate, but leave the Fae desperate for more - to his lips.

“Tonight, I want you to make me feel like the only woman in the world,” she whispered into his lips, “And never mind tomorrow.” 

How could he refuse? With the most subtle of nods to give his consent, he watched as Vicky sat up now - resting her rear on his crotch and turning the attention of his hands to the buttons of his suit pants. Not content with this uneven trade, Killian let his own hands drift - rising up to the top of her shoulderless dress - before cupping Vicky’s breasts through the fabric. She stifled a gentle moan as she bit her lip, closing her eyes to relish in the touch. Killian took a lot of pride in being able to cause such a blissful response, so he continued his offensive - fondling gently, teasingly, through the fabric.

“I’m going to make you pay for teasing me like this,” Vicky promised, as she finally adjusted Killian’s clothing enough to grasp his manhood in her hand. Surprising neither of them, he was already hard, but Vicky smirked all the same. “It’s no snubnose, but you sure are happy to see me, aren’t you?”

He wanted to retort with some no doubt razor-sharp wit, but the words caught in his throat as her hand wrapped gently around his shaft and began to stroke, the tip of her thumb tracing a circle around his tip. “Fuck-” was all the Fae could manage, to which Vicky laughed. 

“Like a deer caught in headlights,” she teased, letting her hand continue for a moment. Eager to regain some authority in this battle, Killian stopped his fondling for a brief moment - and instead moved to adjust Vicky’s shoulderless dress down, to expose her breasts to the air. Before Vicky could react, or protest, his hands resumed their work - one playing with her nipple, the other kneading her breast with tender care. 

“Oh my Gods-” she breathed heavily, instinctively, “You fucking asshole… keep doing that or I’ll never dating you again…” 

Not just permission - but an order - to bring joy to a wonderful woman, by exploring her perfect breasts? This was turning into a very good day for Killian. As he continued in his efforts to appease Vicky, she had grown impatient. Killian’s attentions only fanned the fires she felt, and having his cock in her hand made her yearn for more.

“I want you inside of me,” she whispered, “Right now.” As she spoke, she was already in action - pushing herself into the air above Killian’s crotch, and adjusting her dress to conceal both her womanhood and Killian’s manhood. “I really like this dress, so you’ll have to finish inside me…”

“I’d pay the drycleaning,” Killian retorted, “Though don’t think I’m complaining.”

“I didn’t think you would,” she giggled in response, before turning her attention back to the hand still wrapped around Killian’s length. He felt as she began to maneuver them both and, before long, he could feel his tip pressing against Vicky’s entrance, which sent shivers through bot of them. “Tell me you want me.”

“I want you, Vicky,” Killian assured - his voice low and husky in anticipation, “No, I need you. I want to make you feel good - I want to be inside you. Please.”

That was enough for Vicky - and she began to lower herself onto Killian’s length, muttering obscenities under her breath. The slow and steady sensation of being filled - of being made complete - was enough to leave the mind reeling, and she had to clutch the sheets tightly to contain herself. The sensation was just as potent for Killian, who let out a low moan as he felt Vicky take inch after inch. It wasn’t the first time the pair had been intimate in a fashion like this, but the act never lost its appeal.

“You feel so good inside of me,” Vicky whispered, as she began to rise again - building up a steady rhythm and motion. Killian wanted to reply, to tell her how good it felt to be inside her, but the feeling made the words die in his throat. Instead, he used the only language he had left - his actions - and redoubled his efforts. If he could make her feel half as good as she made him feel, then he could be a happy Fae tonight. 

And thus, the two found themselves a comfortable rhythm as Vicky began to rise and fall, one hand moving to tease her clit as the other rested on Killian’s shoulder for support. All the while, Killian added to the experience by thrusting upwards - adding his own force to their intimacy - as his hands continued fondling Vicky’s chest, though he did wish he could move her dress in order to expand his remit to her rear. 

As the pair continued in their intimacy, they felt the pressure inside threatening to bubble over, to transmute into something more primal and ecstatic. 

“Fuck, I’m going to cum-”

“Me too, don’t stop, right there-”

And then, the moment came - arriving first with Vicky. She let loose a moan, crying Killian’s name, as she rode out the sensations crashing against her body, enjoyed the warmth that spread throughout her whole body. And, as her body processed her orgasm, it was enough to drive Killian over the edge - thrusting hard and deep into Vicky as he came, before leaning back on the bed, breathing heavily. Vicky, much the same, lifted herself clear of Killian, before twisting to land on the bed by his side. 

Wordlessly, Killian lifted his arm to embrace Vicky, who began to cuddle into his chest. 

“You were great,” she said breathlessly, almost nuzzling his exposed chest by instinct. In response, Killian squeezed her lightly with the arm holding her.

“You were beyond great,” he retorted, sighing contently as the words escaped his lips. Then… he paused for a moment, as something new bubbled within him. Or… rather, old - but long forgotten. “Vicky?” he asked, “I love you.”

She tilted her head then, to catch his eyes - full of fear and concern that this feeling that had long been numb couldn’t be returned - and she smiled at him, with all the tenderness in the world. “I love you too. Now, rest up… we’re going to have a few more rounds tonight.”


End file.
